To The Wind

As the sun went down, the quiet, quaint, little hole in the wall that was Finnegan's, transformed into a lively venue filled with merriment. The workers put down the tools of their trade for the day and instead, picked up lutes, flutes and all manner of instruments, some even from the far reaches of the world. As music began to fill the air, feet festively hit the floor in dance.

The crowd whirled and twirled in a chaotic shuffle while the vampire all, but stared. As Simon observed his companion, he felt that he was being fed a steady stream of a foul-tasting anxiety. There was a reason other than the boisterous barkeeper that the tailor hadn't wished to dine at Finnegan's that evening. Alabaster's presence was so striking, so out of place amongst the common folk, that it was comparable to seeing a swatch of daylight held up against a backdrop of a moonless, night sky.

The food, the people, the unsophisticated frolicking around the room; all of it was nothing short of a culture shock! It was an unseemly sight. A setting unfit for noble blood. The tailor hung his head in shame. It was no wonder Alabaster couldn't take his eyes off of the spectacle in front of him. What must be running through the man's mind at that moment?

A green gaze was drawn up when a movement other than the trouncing of the feet around them swayed the table. Simon's jaw dropped at what he found to be the cause. Instead of recoiling in disgust, the vampire was tapping his feet to the rhythm. Delight wore itself proudly on his features, causing his eyes to sparkle like the shimmering light that rode aloft on the waves of the ocean. But, the most captivating part of his expression was how the nobleman's lips smiled with so much joy, that his mouth had to part to fit it all. Now it was the tailor's turn to stare.

A full glass of wine was shoved into Simon's hand by the elvish princess, who inclined her head toward their guest with a knowing smirk. The human meet Mira's gaze with an expression befitting a startled owl, before setting his sights back on the only man who had ever managed to fill his belly full of butterflies. Finnegan's was not a place for reflection. But, with his thoughts chasing themselves around in befuddled circles, it just couldn't wait.

Simon Hart had lived his life in the most orderly manner possible. So much so, that he had developed a reputation for it. The tailor of Bellany Avenue, a conscientious craftsman of the highest degree, who could always be turned to for a little matter-of-fact advice and a high quality suit stitched to perfection. It was all he had ever defined himself to be. It was everything he needed.

Yet, as he gazed at the nobleman across from him, something didn't feel right about that way of thinking, anymore. Especially not with Alabaster's words resonating in his skull like the chiming of a church bell.

'I don't know for how long. But, I expect that we'll be here for a good, long while.'

Alabaster would be in Lenore for an extended amount of time. But, that didn't mean forever. When the vampire went back to his ancestral homeland of Nevermore, he wouldn't be able to go with him. It was a heart rending state of affairs, but the tailor had always been a realist. It may not have been that day and it may not have been the next, but, eventually, Simon was going to lose him.

'To think I spent so much time wishing that this vampire was as far away from my life as possible,' he mulled with a bittersweet huff, 'Now I can't help, but to despair at the very thought of it.'

So much time had been wasted on trivial affairs. Over frivolities that no longer mattered, if they had ever mattered at all. Time was against them now and Simon was determined not to waste another second. The prim and proper tailor of Bellany Avenue finally knew what he wanted.

There would be a price to pay, of course. He would be taking a devastating hit to his carefully cultivated image. But, if they were to be separated for all eternity, Simon Hart was going to give Alabaster Stone something to remember him by. Something that they could both hold on to, when they could no longer hold on to each other. He suddenly tossed back the rest of his wine in a manner most unbefitting a gentleman.

'Fuck my reputation.'

With the liquid courage in his system, the man sauntered up to his companion. Alabaster raised an eyebrow as his dear tailor stepped in front of him, demanding his full attention in not so many words.

"Hm? Do you need something, my love?"

The question was enough to suck the air right out of Simon's lungs. But, the tailor had already made up his mind. If there was ever a time to throw caution to the wind, it was now. Now or never.

"Yes," he breathed with a soft tremble in his voice, "You."

The vampire's eyes slowly widened in wonderment. His lips parted to speak, though nothing came out. A tender confession, now of all times, was enough to catch anyone off guard. It left Alabaster fumbling in a rare moment of clumsiness, grasping at straws for something to say. But, thankfully, he didn't have to utter a single word; the other shoe dropped.

Straightening up, the gentleman extended his hand in offering. The sight took Alabaster's mind back to the gala. But, unlike that night, the gesture wasn't grudging. It wasn't the surrender of a prize that the other man felt was earned. It was so much more; it held the weight of a soul that knew what they wanted and was going after it.

That subtle strength in Simon's frame, the demanding clench of his jaw, a reluctant, yet fierce hope smothering in his eyes; the nobleman could feel his cheeks beginning to warm. Usually, Alabaster was the suitor in their relationship. He who chased and prayed and hoped and wanted. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined the shoe on the other foot.

"Confidence.. becomes you, my dear tailor. You wear it quite fetchingly."

The compliment brought a crinkled smirk out of his beloved, causing the vampire's heart to skip a beat. Still, he managed to maintain his composure.

"I would be delighted."

The wood of Finnegan's tavern could hardly be called a dance floor. But, as Alabaster rose elegantly from the table and placed a hand gently in his own, Simon felt that this place had been transformed into a ballroom. He took the lead, bringing the other man as far into the lively din as he dared.

"I don't know how to dance like this," the regal Stone confessed with a rare bashfulness, "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Nor I. I suppose we shall just have to learn together."

Unsure steps caused tangling as they tried to keep up with the demanding pace that everyone around them seemed to know by heart. His own fumbling and bumbling made Simon feel like a hapless fool. But, as his hands shot out to steady the vampire, who tripped over his own feet, a calm settled over him; he wasn't in this alone.

"My my!" Alabaster gasped as he allowed himself to slump bonelessly into his human's arms, "This is more difficult than it looks."

"Yes, I suppose it's.. keeping us on our toes, isn't it?"

The Crystal Vampire's eyes flashed in delight, as Simon eased him back onto his feet.

"My dearest tailor! Was that truly a pun out of you? Should I be worried?"

"Perhaps you should be-"

Simon yelped as a large man linked arms with him, trotting him around at a dizzying pace, before finally releasing him. It was a compelling reminder that this wasn't a place for talk. With how the floor beneath them shook as the bodies surrounding them moved like flickering flames, this place in time had only ever been meant for one thing and one thing alone: dance!

Simon took the cue and linked an arm with his companion's, guiding them in a smooth circle as he said, "But, perhaps it's understandable."

"And why is that?"

The vampire was forced to release the tailor, as he was spirited away by an older woman in a obnoxious, orange frock. Their drastic height difference caused the vampire to hunch and stumble about as she all, but dragged him behind her in a jolly jaunt across the floor. The moment the stranger let go, Alabaster turned and clasped onto Simon for dear life. The gentleman snorted with a smile, before carefully extracting himself from the frazzled noble's grasp.

"Well, that looked harrowing. Poor dear," he cooed playfully, as he eased a lock of that beautiful, snow-white hair out of his vampire's face, secretly marveling at how soft it was, "So very brave you are."

"Need I remind you, my dear tailor, that I am the Crystal Vampire? I'm more than capable of holding my own in any-"

The moment the crowds parted, that little, old lady came back into sight, eyes locking onto him with obvious intent. It was borderline supernatural how quickly the tailor found an armload of Alabaster in his possession.

"Please don't let her have me again."

Simon shook his head, his smile growing. It was head spinning how quickly the businessman could put that fondness away, however. He shot a meaningful glare over his companion's shoulder at anyone who dared to cast so much as a glance in the vampire's direction. The message couldn't have been clearer. The crowd dispersed. But, even if the threat had passed, the tailor allowed himself the simple indulgence of holding on just a little while longer.

"I think we should try something more familiar," Simon said at last, taking a step back.

He placed a hand on the vampire's waist, before claiming Alabaster's hand in his other. The vampire's face lit up in understanding. This was something they could both slip into like an old, warm coat: a waltz.

"I would enjoy this familiar something very much, Simon. But, this dance is out of place here, wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed. But, who said that we couldn't put our own twist on it?"

What was typically a leisurely spin full of grace in the halls of the gentry became a frenzied tornado, as he sped up his steps to match the mood of the room. Alabaster caught on right away, matching Simon's pace with a heartfelt laugh that caused a pleasant warmth to spread throughout the tailor. He wanted to hear that bubbly sound over and over again, he decided; it was like having a glass of fine wine in the presence of even finer music.

"You never did answer my question from before, my dear. I believe you mentioned something about your unusual behavior being understandable?"

"Yes. Because, as ludicrous as it sounds, I'm enjoying myself, immensely."

The gentleman stopped, before gently spinning the nobleman around him.

"I do believe a big part of that is being here with you."

"Who are you and where is the stoic man who's stolen my heart?"

At that, the vampire switched their positions, taking the lead as he escorted the human around the floor.

"I do wish to know what has come over you, Simon Hart. Perhaps I can bottle whatever it is and market it as a cure for all that ails."

The tailor huffed in amusement.

"As if someone of your social standing would ever need to resort to selling things. But, it's simple, Alabaster. We don't have forever. So, I intend to make the most of the time we do have. From here on out, I regret to inform you that I will be holding nothing back."

Suddenly, Simon turned the tables, taking back control, as he dripped Alabaster down low. The vampire swallowed audibly as the tips of their noses touched. Those beautiful, green eyes, usually so withdrawn were alive, sparkling with a mischievous edge.

"Or do you find such a notion objectionable?"

"On the contrary," the noble breathed, his voice quieting to match the other man's almost conspiratorial tone, "I look forward to getting to know this new side of you, my dearest. However, I should warn you. If you hold nothing back-"

Alabaster switched their positions quickly enough to daze, grinning down at the tailor he had captured in his arms, "Neither will I."

Even if none of this was planned for the evening, Simon Hart had initiated all of this. But, in that moment, he couldn't help, but to feel conflicted with his choice. All of his insecurities and old patterns were coming home to roost. The thought plagued him that throwing caution to the wind like this was going to backfire on him and cost him everything he had fought so hard to build.

But, he had just the thing to chase away those foul, flighty thoughts; the simple reminder that nothing good lasted forever. There would be no second chances. No clandestine meetings later down the road of life. All they had was here and now. There was no better time to seize the moment. No better time to take a risk with his heart.

"As one gentleman to another," Simon said, as he rested his forehead against the other man's, staring deeply into his beautiful eyes, "I wouldn't have it any other way."